Dispatches from the Multitude of Worldly Things


The shudder of an unsteady table, concomitant dance of the sugar jar — A little coat cloister infused with the cherry-syrup scent of cough cures — The crawls of the flies up the walls, over the artworks, compound eyes on the éclairs and biscotti — Or if that odor is actually the bathroom cleanser and standing before the bowl maybe you think: my penis in a place it's never been before or else you think: here we go again and recall all the overt laxity and secret swindles of the great high school stoner economies — How coffee or alcohol can each lead to the same confession: if I'd meant to drink this much I'd have eaten first — Whatever virgins do when not busy either defending the fortress or else pining for liberation from same — Sun glancing off the hewn copper claw of a crowned crab, the basic truth of God paved over with layers of symbol (Cathedral Church of St John the Divine, Amsterdam Ave & 111th) — A woman telling two men and another woman "it's the work that we do," with resonant perfect vaguery ruined a moment later by some slew of numbers recited with equally perfected blithe — Catching my eye reflected in the dusked-over silver of a NO SMOKING sign — upon the wall it was written (in red) if x+y=6 then x=6-y to which another responded (in blue) asshole that's like an infinite set what a bad example asshole  
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